word: dedication
Pair: Yes ... You can call this even a FF with pair? I'm not sure ... somehow But it was I owe them to him, somewhere. Because I love her so.
Disclaimer: The people are still themselves, and I hereby earn any money. The lyrics is the (free) translation of "Devotion" by Tracy Chapman.
I think that the right music is to read the Challenge. Have fun!
If you could pick yourself out there, would you want to live?
Yes, I would.
If you could pick yourself out there, would you want to live like that?
No, I would not.
If you could pick yourself out there, what would you want to change?
I would like to start over. I would go back in time and take me so much ice, until my heart is frozen. A piece of stone, I would take to get him to throw you to the head.
Why?
Because then I would finally feel I should. Not for you. I never would have.
And I would be like me want to have it all.
If I'm right
If I can be there
Steady and faithful
Will you find me
"Kyo? Hey, Kyo! "
slowly I see from my tattered book in which I last kanji just dirty I scribbled inside.
"Are you coming to the interview?" Shinya looks at me from above, the little Mutt has created the ears on his arm as if to tell me the same incurred.
"I'm Kaoru goes out with Daisuke?" I reply form or sound. The labbrige book in my hand, I propose to leave slowly, but the finger and stylus in the side. Shinya understands the hint, hint comment.
"Yes, but I Toshiya and go and see them. We have nothing else to do. "He makes a brief respite, the blond and brown strands plucked from his face," But if you do not want ... "
He has not even finished speaking, I nod agreement, it falls into the word. "recognized right" to
Shinyas face I know when he will again start with a "clear the air", which I am sent out of the way when I get up.
"Kyo, you can get but not retreat even further.", He immediately begins to quickly stop for me when I was already turning away.
I have no answer because the answer he already knows but one way or another. I can. And I will.
When I go to the other end of the room, the door open and Shinya, with the little yapper on the arm, back let alone here, I suggest the book to write again and continue where I stopped 've been.
In my devotion In my devotion
I walk down the hall, past the open and closed doors. At the locked rooms and barricaded people that make me look like I was a wild animal, ready at any moment to attack someone in cold blood. Our staff members do not dare to greet you prefer proposes a wide berth around me gives me space when I appear.
try to keep as much distance. Between them and me. And forget all that the walls are getting closer to devour it. My eyes
note but no people and no walls, no More narrow, but they stubbornly cling to the ground. All you see is what they dirty Lenoliumboden on which many a footprint is perpetuated. All you see is what a deep, infinite nothing that is not my shadow, but me seems to swallow itself.
And every time I'm sick of all these long corridors along alone, I hope to come out of the building and nothing more to be. Only the shadow of my self, has finally turned out the way they look at me.
And yet I come out of this house and I'm still me. This small, funny guy. Covered with scars that tell stories, and I measured for the visual, colorful, far less important. I'm
I still. This small, funny guy who cries out the feelings from himself and at least see all as if each heat went out in it. The
am still me. This is me, as I never wanted to be like me and no one wants. I
. The enemy always in the aftertaste.
What if you have a bug
between my intentions and actions
And hold me back before the redemption
Condemn me, it was not worth
In your devotion
In your devotion
I forget where I went long. And now I'm sitting in the middle of nowhere, on a bench and look at the ugly, dirty river before me. The leather-bound book on my crossed legs. The scribbles in it, I can only read or a kindergarten child.
I do not even know what time it is. But the role played time already? Whether I have or may come back in two hours only, which makes a difference? Whether we are at home tomorrow or in three days, who would be involved? Whether it was now only ten or eight years, I love you, is it important? Does it for anyone up for a role?
A cold shiver running down my back, I see the water splashing back to the book.
In all your dedication to this band, in your devotion to me, what would You see, if you were blind?
Sighing I stretch and let me crack my neck, relax it again. Ten or only eight years, makes a difference? It changes anything about the strength of feelings? I have seen them all come, with trumpet fanfare and wanted to conquer you, they have tied up with charm and with its insistent love you've torn up again.
Does it make a difference so, how to love you?
They all came and they all went. Nothing you did. You did not stay with them. Charming one gets up and love you have lost you just as quickly.
They say you learn from your mistakes.
I learn from her. I handle all the difficulties, I avoid the feeling of losing, as I am to resign, you may never have to.
All these years, you know, all these years I'm just the one who is watching. You do not even know how I see and what I see. How I've seen all these years. Sighing, I clench my
hand into a fist, hit so hard, until it trembles. Then I relax them again.
I've always been frugal. I wanted nothing but your friendship. I wanted nothing, except now and then continue to be near you. Nothing to say except, I know you. I would forever be the third party, unnoticed and conspicuously on your side. One observer, a spy, perhaps a voyeur. Nothing more.
But now ... The tide has turned?
If this is addiction, deliver me from a passing infatuation
, deliver me from
A feeling that lacks the purity, deliver me from
A test of honesty, deliver me Deliver me from
from
Deliver me from
I like the sound when the pen glides across the paper and you hear nothing except the quiet scratching. In fact, it is incredibly quiet. Even the sounds of the river seem to seep into the dusk. I believe I can make a radio and I imagine there would be a song of ours play by me, perhaps. And you would hear him. And you would finally know. At last look.
seeing what I thought was so long hidden in the dark and which still, after all the dead time, germinates, and will not wither.
weak smile I close my eyes for a moment shaking his head would have to get rid of these ridiculous ideas that have somehow taken root in my hypothalamus.
But it does not work.
After all this time, all the restraint and the eternal third party can be played, I feel my life across. Because ... I'm tired. It was as if someone folded a switch, drummed into me, it's not '. After all this time is It is all or nothing.
I want you or I do not ever want someone.
But instead, as in all the cheesy movies, novels and songs of the case, I think not to fight it. I have no intention to gather the courage, daring to be and to put everything on one card.
I would not be cheesy and want to blow up. I would never confess to you what I feel.
I would not go to you and tell you in the face, how much you mean to me how much I need you like mad my heart is in your presence. I would never do it. For
in the moment as I conquer you with trumpets and fanfare, Fessler up with my charm, you'll tear up. And it will be it.
all or nothing. Nothing would remain
.
And I choose the path that will provide the best for both of us.
I'll tell you anything, I'm going to retire, I will continue to be the small, funny guy who sings about feelings and opinion of all but knows nothing of it.
I will continue to bleed and cry without anyone will ever come to heal my wounds. I will continue to writhe on the floor and the only thing they will ask themselves is whether I'm on sadomachistische games.
all or nothing.
Even if it will take ten or at only eight years to get from you go.
Nothing is left than a small scar.
What if I find
That you're not good for me
What if I can not be strong enough
What if I can not tear myself away
"Kyo? So here you are stuck. As you walk through half the Pampa to find you, rattling off every beautiful place and you sit in this stinking fish graveyard. "Sighing
sets you down by me, just look flat to the river, then over to me.
"Shinya said you were on it funny." Notice you, though I hear out the underlying message of course.
"Did he?" I try my to let anything show see again down in my book.
"But you know, all talk too much if the day is long." I feel like you bet your head on my shoulder, your hair falls forward. Black hair I always liked you best.
"What are you writing there?" You mumble softly Linster over my shoulder at the mess in kanji, you're not always able to decipher. My guess is confirmed when you pull the end curly, "I'll bet.", You begin to tighten and your eyes, "This is a song about squirrels and green lawn for me?"
I have to smile involuntarily, see from you on the book, tilt your head a little.
"Is there somewhere because for Toshiya?" I ask, then articulate to you.
"What is not, can be yet.", Your cheeky response, in which you smile wide, and I try to take the pen away. I smile back only briefly, leave you can not reach my hand.
Even if it will take ten or at only eight years to get from you go.
Nothing is left as a scar.
a scar as a reminder of the things that I would have given all. A scar for what I felt for you.
Just a reminder of my devotion to you. The always was one-sided and it will always remain.
In my devotion In my devotion
~ Fin ~
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